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‘You kissed me back.’
She lifted her chin. ‘In your dreams!’
Probably, he thought. ‘I didn’t know what you were about to say, maybe the first thing that came into your head, which might have contradicted to some degree what we had said, so I was giving the nice policeman an explanation that he can accept, otherwise he might have thought I was kidnapping you.’
She resisted the hand lightly placed in the centre of her back, the hand that was guiding her to the limo.
‘I think you are.’
‘Rescuing you, yes, you can thank me at a later date.’
‘Kidnapping me,’ she retorted, ignoring the irony as she literally dug her heels in. ‘But thank you, though I don’t know how or why you are here doing this.’
‘You’re limping.’
She clamped her lips over a crude retort; he really did destroy her normally very nice manners. ‘New shoes. Now, do you mind? I am more than capable of finding my own way home,’ she retorted with dignity, trying to remember if she had put her purse in her bag.
‘Just get in the car. Do not—what is the saying?—look a gift horse in the mouth.’
She looked at him, careful not to include his mouth in her flash scrutiny. He was no horse, he was a sleek panther...and no one in their right mind got in a car with a feral big cat.
‘I am not getting into a car like that with a man I... Oh, yes, you’ve told me your name, but you could be anyone...a journalist after a story?’
‘Now you’re thinking like a sensible person.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you admitting you are?’
‘No, but you should always assume the worst of people. Cynicism is not a fault, it is a survival essential.’
Perplexed by his logic, she shook her head. ‘This has been a very confusing day.’
And she thought it was over?‘You are far too naive to be a successful criminal.’Though maybe not to be an accomplice...who cared for her grandfather enough to do anything for him?
‘I’m not a criminal, I’m a librarian!’ she wailed in frustration, which turned into indignation when he laughed.
His grin faded as he dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Get in the car, Anna.’
She thought of that kiss and shook her head, pausing when she heard a distant rumble that she struggled to identify.
The smartly suited young man reappeared. ‘Sounds like someone tipped them off we’ve taken the back entrance. Thanks,’ he added, taking the bike from the driver. ‘Best way to get through rush-hour traffic,’ he said with a grin to Anna. ‘Franco, by the way, and sorry we didn’t get you out of there sooner,’ he said, mounting the bike and adding, ‘I’m off, and you might like to not hang around either, Soren, unless you want to make the evening news bulletins?’
Anna watched him ride away. ‘He is...?’
‘Your lawyer.’
‘He looks expensive.’
‘He’s a friend and he’s right, unless you want to meet up with your friends from the press...?’
He watched the shudder of revulsion ripple through her before he turned and walked across to the rear door. His sardonic gaze held hers as he pulled it open while the driver, without a word, jumped into the driving seat.
‘Your choice.’
Anna stood there torn with indecision. The noise was getting louder, identifiable now as the babble of approaching voices, with a few laughs and curses thrown in.
Choice—there was no choice... She took a deep breath, and, trying not to favour her painful foot, walked up to the limo, not meeting his eyes as she edged past him to settle inside the luxurious leather-lined interior. She shut her eyes as the door closed behind her.
She opened them again when Soren slid in beside her and experienced a moment of panic as she recalled the searing frustration when he had stopped kissing her and the feeling of being totally out of control that had preceded it.
